The Spirit of Halloween
by PathlessSpore
Summary: Cast your gaze over there, upon the girl with snowy hair. I've seen her many times before, skipping to each and every door. She'll smile at you, and say "Trick or Treat." But don't be fooled, she's far from sweet. Best hand over your candy quick, or you're in for one nasty trick. (Poem by Me!)


The Spirit of Halloween  
Rise of the Guardians  
Family/Hurt/Comfort  
One-shot

_Cast your gaze over there  
upon the girl with snowy hair.  
I've seen her many times before  
skipping to each and every door._

_She'll smile at you, and say "Trick or Treat."  
But don't be fooled, she's far from sweet.  
Best hand over your candy quick  
or you're in for one nasty trick._

* * *

**A/N: A quick tidbit! Samhain is pronounced Sow-un. Think of a female pig (sow) and the prefix "Un" Enjoy!**

* * *

It was the same every year. It was the one time where he was believed in with fervor unlike anything else. Pitch Black despised Halloween; he did not want to reduced himself to being seen only once year, where children believed he was hiding in every shadow waiting to catch them. Wearily he rubbed his nose and sighed, determined to stay hidden until this wretched holiday was over.

Even worse was the spirit who ruled over it. She was well over 2,000 years old and yet her antics this night were far from dignified as a spirit her age should be. Pitch made a goal to avoid her every year, but somehow the unmanageable girl found him no matter where he hid. It was a game she had played with him since she had first met him.

She was an odd Spirit; Samhain Night had not been created as others had. Instead she had been born from the tradition of the Holiday whose name she shared. Samhain had always existed and so long as the holiday was still celebrated, even in its extremely westernized manifestation, she would always continue to exist.

It was the night of October 31st, and Pitch was pacing his Nightmare Castle back and forth, plotting and brooding. He could hear the cries of children filter in from his tunnels, screams of childish delight making his eardrums ache. The Nightmare King growled low in his throat and rubbed his eyes. He could not wait until this cursed holiday was over.

Samhain had once asked him to take part in the festivities, to which he declined. Ever since then she hounded him to join her, like annoying toy dog barking at his feet. Pitch had to give her some credit, after a thousand years some people would have just given up. As the night wore on and on he paced his palace in quiet, stopping only when he heard it; the sound of scuffling and scratching.

His Nightmares nickered quietly, earning them a reprimanding glare, "Yes, I can hear." He snapped irritably turning to the source of all the commotion. After 2,000 years the sight of her still made him grimace. A little girl with snowy white hair beamed up at him underneath the brim of a bright orange hat. The grin of a Jack O' Lantern was ripped into the seams, giving the accessory a devilish look, as its eyes bore into him, rolling in its sockets. Her dress was orange, with black lace trimming the edges, pumpkin stockings topping off black pointed shoes.

She grinned at him and held out her bucket, "Trick or Treat." She said with a sweet smile. Pitch huffed; she was anything but a sweet, innocent child. He remembered when he had first met this annoying girl. He had wandered around on All Souls Night, brooding and boiling in hate for the newly formed Guardians who had ended his rule of the Dark Ages. He stood before the edge of a small village; children wore costumes, "guising" themselves from evil spirits and asking for gifts from their neighbors.

He was about to turn away when he felt someone tug on his coat. Startled he looked down to find a dirty child in rags with white hair and orange eyes. In her hand she held a burlap sack, a grin painted her face as she held it out,

"Trick or Treat?" she asked kindly, expectancy etched into her face. Pitch snarled at her,

"Leave me be, brat," he snapped and he made to turn away. A hiss made him whip his head around. The girl clenched the bag tightly, her mouth set into a fierce snarl. Her eyes had brightened and seemed to glow like small bonfires.

"Fine," she hissed, "You'll get a trick!"

She snapped her fingers and a cloud of black smoke was upon him in seconds. Pitch had not time to cry out as it swamped him, and cleared away in the next instant. For a moment the king of Nightmares was confused, the world had strangely gotten bigger. As he opened his mouth to yell at his attacker a horrible yowl filled the air. It took a moment for him to realize that he was the source. He looked down to find himself staring at shaggy black paws.

"Aww," cooed the white-haired girl, "who's the cute little kitty?"

Pitch was beside himself with fury, hissing and screeching at the girl, who merely laughed at him. She gave him a wag of her finger and winked, "The next time I ask trick or treat, you better give me something sweet to eat." And she left as quickly as she came in a cloud of smoke.

Pitch was forced to spend the rest of the night as a mangy black cat, who was ironically seen by everyone. Whenever he passed someone on the street a shoe was thrown at him, or he was nearly drenched in water. Mortals and their superstitions, after that fateful night Pitch was more careful about what he said around the mischievous spirit.

Pitch snapped back into the present as a frown appeared on Samhain's face. Before she could throw a temper tantrum and turn him into something else, he dug around in his sleeve and pulled out a large pink swirled lollipop. Her eyes lit up in delight as he tossed it to her and turned away,

"Take it, and leave me be you incorrigible child."

And just like the year before, she jumped on to his back and wrapped her small arms around his neck, "Thank you, Pitch." She said with a smile, giving him a quick squeeze before running off into the night. And just like every year before the King of Nightmares shook off her assault and tried to stop the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Pitch Black had a reputation to keep after all.

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**_A/N: So I watched Rise of the Guardians and felt extremely bad for Pitch Black because he had a tragic back story. The poor spirit didn't have a friend in the world, I mean seriously all he wanted was a family and for people to believe. True his methods were a little underhanded, but desperation does that to people._**

**_So I created little Samhain to be his little companion, even if the relationship seems a little one-sided. As for the spirit of Halloween herself, I read a ton of fics about her/him and noticed that some were mostly in their early to late teens, even adult like in some cases. I found that odd, the Spirit of Halloween always seemed like a little kid to me. Like six or sevenish. But that was my interpretation._**

**_I hope you enjoyed it enough to leave a review. All that I ask is that you leave some CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM in the review box. Please?_**

**_Pathless Spore_**


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